


The Heirloom

by Ozdiva



Category: Anne of Green Gables
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 05:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20830505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozdiva/pseuds/Ozdiva
Summary: The amethyst brooch is a beloved heirloom, what does it think about the Cuthberts?





	The Heirloom

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little thing my bonkers brain came up with. The brooch is so pivotal in the beginning and is never mentioned again, in the books at least. There is a lovely scene in the Netflix series where Marilla says she will bequeath the brooch to Anne in time and then it will be hers to hand on to someone she loves. The TV brooch has a large stone surrounded by smaller ones, and it is this item that the story is about. The large stone calls herself Brooch, though she is more than just one jewel.

Brooch had been assembled in Scotland, and always spoke with a sweet Scottish brogue. She, for she thought of herself as female, having always been worn by women, had been adored by generations of Cuthberts. She had been one of the few items of value the current owner’s mother had possessed and even in tribulation had not been surrendered. Brooch remembered that terrible voyage, pitching and rolling in the dark hold for weeks on end. Her mistress had been so very unwell. They all emerged, blinking in the sunlight on that glorious day. Brooch vowed never to set ‘foot’ on water again, as if it had a choice.

Brooch knew she was an item of great importance. She was no ordinary item of apparel. Instead she was worn on important days only. This leant her an air of superiority over other items in the glory box and wardrobe. The woolen scarf sometimes tried to lord it over Brooch, declaring that it kept the mistress warm on cold days, and surely that made it more important, but Brooch scoffed at that. “Only I am worn all year round, only I am added down through the generations, only I will be bequeathed. You are merely an item of clothing. I am an heirloom, there is a difference you know.” 

“Know know” echoed her babies, the smaller gems.

Brooch went to all the best places, to church, to the esteemed Ladies Aid, in fact she was in attendance at the inaugural meeting; she went on church picnics and was worn on all holidays. Cuthbert felt proud of her beauty and Brooch did her best to look fine and show off Cuthbert’s regal bearing at every showing. In short, they complemented each other. 

A new girl arrived at the house. Brooch was most perplexed. In her experience this wasn’t how new beings came into existence: they were either crafted as she had been, or born squalling, pink and small as Cuthbert had been. This girl was neither, appearing to be fully formed, if a bit shorter. Her strident red hair was shocking, and Brooch shuddered, thinking how ugly it was. Just as well she wouldn’t be wearing Brooch, their colours would clash. 

When asked to put the annoying wooden shawl and herself away, the girl played with them both, acting out a tale of knights and princesses and that’s when the accident occurred. Despite her annoyance at being stuffed down the chair, Brooch did not like to see the girl take the blame. She overheard the heartfelt confession from her hidden spot. That’s when Brooch and her babies started to cry out.

“Cuthbert! Cuthbert! We’re down here, We’re not in the well. We’re safe. Cuthbert! Look down,” Brooch cried. 

“Down, down,” her babies, echoed.

Eventually, much to her relief she was located, and she heard her mistress apologise to the girl. In time, the girl grew older and Brooch became accustomed to her fiery red hair, eventually deciding that it was quite beautiful, despite being unusual. 

It was the girl, Shirley’s, wedding day. Shirley would become Blythe. Brooch understood that Cuthbert had mixed emotions, pride in her girl matched with sadness that she would depart for good. Brooch did her best to twinkle in the sunlight, her facets catching every sunbeam so that she sparkled on the sunny day. Together with Cuthbert’s dress, she did the best she could to make their mistress look more regal than ever. The mother of the bride was an important role, one that Brooch took very seriously. 

One fateful day, after many, many years of service, Cuthbert sat down with Blythe, Brooch in hand, rather than pinned to her throat. Solemnly she told the younger woman that she wished to bequeath Brooch to her. Brooch was dismayed, “no, no,” she cried.

“No, no,” wept her babies. 

They had been together for ever such a long time, Brooch was disconsolate to be given away. Was she just an object to Cuthbert? Did she mean nothing? 

“Anne,” explained Cuthbert, “here is my precious brooch. My beloved mother, God rest her soul, bequeathed it to me many years ago, when she grew old, and now I am bequeathing it to you. It is a remembrance of a time before, way back in Scotland where Mama grew up. Despite financial hardships, this amethyst brooch was never surrendered, for it was a token of love. I am old now, and I feel it is time I gave the brooch to you, as a token of my love, my dearest daughter.

At that Brooch gasped, and suddenly it all became clear to her. As Cuthbert’s mother had handed Brooch down, now it was Cuthbert’s turn. This, formerly little girl, who appeared as if from nowhere, was Cuthbert’s daughter in all but blood. Brooch was a symbol of affection, not to be given lightly, but with love and care. Brooch felt proud when Cuthbert pinned her to Blythe’s throat. The woman’s red hair matched her mauve tones beautifully. 

In time, Blythe grew old in her turn and bequeathed Brooch to her youngest daughter, Ford. Repeating with love the words that Cuthbert had said to her all those years earlier.

So, it went, Brooch continuing on, being given to a new generation in its turn. She never forgot her humble beginnings back in Scotland, but she was a proud Canadian brooch now, much beloved by the Cuthbert, Blythe and Ford families. She bore her role proudly, ensuring that she made her wearer seem as fine and regal as her first owners had been.


End file.
